


Different World

by Katryusha



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, BDSM, M/M, Slow Build, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:12:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7204157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katryusha/pseuds/Katryusha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody has a different way to view the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hahaha, look at me posting a new story, hahaha, look at me ignoring all the other stories i have ongoing
> 
> ANYWAY, this thing came up because of ANOTHER thing I read on tumblr (gdi tumblr). 
> 
> I SWEAR THE SUMMARY WILL CHANGE ONCE I THINK OF SOMETHING BETTER, OMG
> 
> At first, Arthur is going to be pretty much ooc, but it’s only in the beginning (and it’s sort of a long beginning). :P
> 
> Not beta-ed.

“Francis…” Came the soft, hesitating voice of the Brit at the door, “…I…” He fiddled anxiously with his fingers, looking nervously to the side, blushing, “I… sort of… need your advice… about something that’s been… um… bothering me…”

Francis smiled, subtle amusement hidden behind it as he stared at the Brit, “Well… this is unusual, _mon petit lapin_ , what’s wrong?” He patted the spot on the couch next to him.

Arthur quietly shuffled to the sofa and sat down, legs pressed tightly together as he squirmed uncomfortably. Francis raised an eyebrow.

“Erm… You remember my roommate, Matthew?” He started, Francis nodded with a fond smile, “Um, I met his older brother.”

“Matthew has a brother?” The surprise in his voice was evident, he hadn’t known that Matthew had a brother and he was known to know pretty much everyone, “What’s his name?” The Frenchman leaned closer to the Brit, his interest rising.

“Alfred.” He stated bluntly, the blush on his cheeks spreading to his ears and neck, his hands played with the hem of his – too big for him – sweater.

“Hmm… So, you want to talk about his brother? What? Did he do something to you?” He inclined even more closer to the Brit and whispered, “Is he hot?” He backed away with a chuckle as the Brit’s face exploded in red, “He is.” Francis answered his own question, no need to further embarrass the poor Brit.

“Er– Yes, he is– sort of… good looking… I guess…” The Brit trailed off, mumbling something incoherently making Francis even more amused.

“And…?” He pressed.

Arthur shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, looking everywhere but Francis. Silence took over the room, but Francis waited patiently.

Francis sometimes wished for the other to be more open, more vivid, but Arthur was a shy, meek thing ever since he was a kid, and, don’t get Francis wrong, he liked Arthur as he was, but sometimes he just wanted the other to be more confident, to snap back at him. Alas, he didn’t think that would change any time soon, even though they were both in college now.

The Brit sighed and slumped against the couch, he finally looked Francis in the eyes but quickly moved his gaze to his lap, biting his bottom lip insistently, even though Francis has told him time and time again not to.

“I think… he sort of is… hitting on me?” He said in a questioning tone, sounding very confused.

Francis gasped, eyes widening as both of his eyebrows rose in disbelief, and then, his expression morphed into a coy, sly one. He gestured for Arthur to continue.

“I mean— He’s helping us with the rent of our flat and every time he has nothing to do he comes to hang out, even if it’s just with me, and— and because he knew I love books he asked if I wanted to go to a bookstore the other day…” The Brit once again fiddled nervously with his fingers, “We went together then, just the two of us.”

Francis was ecstatic to be hearing this, he couldn’t control the grin on his lips.

“Erm… he offered to pay my books for the next semester and I let him, although I do feel a little bad for it.” The Brit bent his legs and hugged his knees, “And then— then we went out for dinner and he paid for it all— Ugh… Now I do feel bad for it.” Arthur shook his head and pressed his head against his knees.

Francis sighed and rubbed the Brit’s back gently, “What’s done is done, Arthur, don’t worry so much… Unless… was he being creepy or something like that?” He asked then, worry lacing his voice. The Brit was too much of a sweet creature and could sometimes be deceived easily. Heaven knows how many times he had managed to trick Arthur into falling for one of his scams when they were younger.

The Brit’s head snapped up, eyes wide and fuzzy brows furrowed, “No!” He shouted and Francis leaned back surprised, “No, no he’s not like— Um— He’s actually a nice lad, he pays for his brother to go to college and he helps us a lot, he’s very smart despite his goofy appearance, he’s the CEO of a private company and— Um, well, he’s very… easy going…” The Brit trailed off again like he often did although he did have a light smile on his lips.

Francis chuckled quietly as the Brit’s face flushed red once more.

“So, you like him.” There was no need for questioning, Francis merely stated the truth.

Arthur’s flustered expression morphed into one of mortification, “I’m not gay.”

“From what I’ve gathered from this small conversation, _mon cher_ , you like him~!”

Arthur seemed to have a battle within himself for a few moments before settling on, “But— I’m not gay!” He appeared appalled at the thought and Francis chuckled.

“Well, you’re gay for him, it seems.” Francis couldn’t control the giddiness in his voice, he was delighted to hear that someone had taken an interest in his childhood friend and it seemed that the guy the Brit had described was a good person, of course, Francis was definitely going to investigate after this.

Arthur paused, and Francis awaited with baited breath for whatever the Brit was going to say next.

“Bloody hell!” He yelled, voice heavy with various emotions, mainly mortification and shock, the Brit curled up and fell to the side on the couch, and Francis laughed.

“What are you going to do now?” Francis asked, crossing a leg over the other.

“Me?!” The Brit shrieked, looking up at Francis from behind a pillow, Francis looked at him with an eyebrow raised, “I’m n-not doing a-anything!”

“What do you mean with that?” The Frenchman crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on the couch.

The Brit, meanwhile, jumped off the couch and started to pace the living room, biting his lip insistently, brows furrowed and eyes wide.

“Arthur, calm down, it’s not the end of the world.” He stood up and darted for the kitchen, nothing better to calm down a Brit than tea.

“It is for me!” He squeaked nervously, hiding his red face behind his hands, “I never liked anyone like this, I don’t know what to do—!” Francis heard Arthur’s panicked wail from the small kitchen and sighed, “I-I-I can’t do this—!” Francis eyes widened and before he could even reach the living room’s doorway he heard the front door open and close with a loud bang.

He stared at the door a for few minutes hoping that Arthur would come back, but the Brit was gone.

“This is going to be harder than you think, _Mr._ _Alfred_.” He thought absentmindedly. Behind him the kettle whistled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have no excuse tbh, i'm just lazy and procrastinate a lot :|
> 
> Not Beta-ed

If there was one thing Arthur was stubborn about, it was: avoiding people.

He managed to avoid Alfred for a week.

But, that was only until Alfred started to become more persistent in seeing him and he found himself jumping through his bedroom’s window and, shakily and anxiously, jumping from his window sill to the emergency stairs (like one of those ninjas Kiku had shown him) and either wait there, hidden, till Alfred went away or having to walk down the stairs quickly and run like hell was on his heels.

Since Francis had spoken about him being in love with Alfred, Arthur had been in denial, and he would be forever in denial. It just wasn’t possible.

And, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t want to deal with it. So bothersome. Love was a silly thing and also the last thing Arthur needed.

Today he was hiding beneath the window sill of the living room on the staircase, he had brought some books with him in case Alfred took too long inside, talking with his brother, so he could get some study done.

Sometimes he would hear Alfred and Matthew talking, sometimes he just tuned them out. Matthew had found his behaviour odd, but had just shrugged and told nothing of it. Hell, he even covered for him whenever Alfred asked if he was home. Such a good chap he was, how he could be related to Alfred, Arthur had no idea.

“I’m going on a business trip tonight to Canada… I won’t be back until next week, want me to bring you anything besides the usual?” Arthur heard Alfred ask, he sounded tired, frustrated, and (was it his imagination?) defeated…

Arthur found himself gazing at his lap, biting his lip as he tried to focus on his book.

His heart hurt for some reason and his stomach was sinking with guilt. The Brit hugged his knees and, for once, decided to hear the conversation. It wasn’t a very gentlemanly thing to do, but…

“...Do you really need me to answer?”

A heavy sigh was heard.

“No, I guess not.” He heard some shuffling, “I don’t know what I did for him to start avoiding me. Why don’t you tell me?” Alfred’s tone hinted a plea.

“Because I don’t know either.”

Arthur gulped, burying his face in his knees, he took deep breathes to keep his calm, but hearing Alfred’s voice like that made a knot form in his throat, his eyes prickled with tears.

The sound of the door closing startled him, his head jerked up and he finally took notice of the tears streaming down his cheeks, but why was he crying?

Arthur cleaned away his tears with the sleeve of his oversized shirt and just stayed there, staring away into the distance, not really looking at anything. His mind was a turmoil and he had no idea of how to put it in order. No idea of what to do.

It would just be for the best if Alfred stopped trying to see him, talking to him…

...Right?

Why did he feel so uneasy about it?

It wasn’t because he missed hearing Alfred’s boisterous voice or laughter… Or their long conversations about random topics… Or the way Alfred made him feel comfortable around him… Or how he made Arthur smile whenever the American cracked a joke, no matter how stupid it was… And, how Alfred’s face lit up when he saw him laughing, those blue eyes sparkling and the big boyish grin spreading across his face…

Arthur felt his heart skip a beat and a heavy blush crawl over his cheeks.

The Brit shook his head. No, no, no— Alfred was just another one of those people that would soon go away, like always. It was fine. He would be fine. And his heart would stop beating so quickly.

If it persisted, perhaps he should go see a doctor.

“—thur? Arthur!”

Arthur blinked and looked up, his skin paling and his heart stopping for a second as Alfred appeared in his sight—

The sudden tension in his body dissolved completely as he realized that it wasn’t Alfred, it was Matthew.

“Y-Yes?” He stood up, ignoring the shakiness in his hands as he fixed his crumpled clothes. Jesus, seeing Matthew suddenly after thinking about Alfred was surely scary.

“You should come inside. It looks like it might rain soon.” The Canadian spoke softly. Arthur stared at him for a few moments before looking up at the cloudy sky, and then picking up his things.

Matthew had a strange, sombre look on his face. It made Arthur gulp, pressing his books close to his chest (the books Alfred had bought him—) and then he carefully stepped inside, jumping over the window sill, he closed the window behind him and turned to Matthew.

The Canadian cleared his throat as he sat on the couch and patted the spot next to him, “Arthur, we need to… discuss something.”

The Brit felt a shiver of trepidation go down his spine, he nervously shuffled over to sit next to the Canadian. Placing the books on his lap, he tapped his fingers on their covers to distract himself.

It was going to be a long evening…


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came out faster than i was expecting, but it's also smol, sorry, lmao ;P

Arthur really, really, _really_ didn’t want to have this conversation whatsoever. The problem would just eventually go away soon if he didn’t care enough about it—

But he did. He cared, he cared a lot, too much perhaps. Yet, he still wouldn’t, didn’t want to do anything about it.

However, there Matthew was. Staring at him with a seriousness that he had never seen before. Arthur wondered if it was too late to go get his unicorn plush.

“Arthur.”

The Brit blinked and swallowed.

“You’ve been my friend for almost two months now... I know you’re a good person…” The Canadian sighed and shook his head, “I’ll just go straight to the point.” He cleared his throat, “Arthur. My brother, if you haven’t noticed yet, likes you. _A lot_.”

The Brit felt heat rise to his cheeks and put his hands over his face. It was one thing suspecting, it was another thing entirely to have someone state it. He didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet.

“He doesn’t know why you started avoiding him. I don’t know either and…” Matthew sighed heavily again, “I love my brother. Even though he can be a bit of an idiot sometimes…” Arthur hesitantly lowered his hands only to come face to face with Matthew’s stern features, “You’re hurting my brother, and I want to know why.”

Arthur cringed inwardly. How was he supposed to explain that he really didn’t want anything to do with… love?

Love was such a strange thing. He didn’t really believe in love. He never had a girlfriend, or boyfriend even. No one had ever really loved him. Or maybe someone did, but he never believed or noticed? He just never imagined himself falling in love with someone or having someone fall in love with him.

It begged the question of what is love exactly… Had he felt it before? It depended on the type of love? Friendship love, family love…?

Arthur loved his parents, or so he thought. They said that they loved him a lot, but to his ears it just sounded like empty words.

How could his mother love him when he was the reason they separated? Love could be such a feeble sentiment. Arthur didn’t quite believe his mother loved him. Or at least not during his childho—

“—thur?”

The Brit jumped startled at the fingers snapping in his face.

“Huh—?!”

The Canadian leaned back a bit, “You were spacing out.” His tone of voice had become lower, softer, almost cautious.

“I was…?” He whispered, eyebrows raising, “Sorry.”

Matthew’s brows furrowed in worry, but before he could say anything more, Arthur started talking.

“I… I just… Hum… I… Well, I just think that it’s better if I stay away from him, like that, that stupid crush he supposedly has on me will go away. I d-don’t like him l-like that at all—” He stammered, the blush in his face coming up again and it was unmistakable that he was lying through his teeth although he tried to hide it.

What he felt wasn’t love. Alfred was just a friend. There was no need to worry or panic over such things. Arthur was perfectly content in staying by his sole self forever.

He didn’t want anyone nor did anyone want him. It was as simple as that.

Arthur tugged at the hem of his shirt, avoiding looking at Matthew who was humming thoughtfully. The Brit felt observed, swaying under Matthew’s piercing stare.

“Hmmm… Fine then.” Arthur heard him say, and almost sighed in relief, but then, “However, you should reject him once he comes back so he doesn’t have to sulk around and procrastinate even more on his work.”

Arthur gawked at the Canadian. Matthew had a subtle smirk on his face, slightly sadistic even, dare Arthur think. The other looked entertained by the idea, those violet eyes shining with amusement, as if he knew something Arthur didn’t.

The Brit was very much against all this ordeal. He definitely didn’t want to confront Alfred (he knew he would succumb to the puppy look which Alfred could pull off amazingly, unfortunately).

Arthur decided, then, he was going to run away.

He would much rather run to the hills and live in the middle of the woods alone than face Alfred, or anyone.

Matthew stood up, patted Arthur on the head and walked away to his bedroom.

“He’ll return in a week, Arthur.”

The deadline was set.

Arthur felt like crying again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so y’all remember that i’m not dead yet. Haha
> 
> sorry for not posting much, college and all….. well, it’s shit. -q

Time passed by. Slowly, tortuously slowly. Arthur could feel his anxiety rising with every second that passed and he still didn’t know what to do.

He avoided Matthew. He avoided everyone and anyone. Even Francis. He could feel the pressure of the _deadline_ pushing down on him, every time he thought about it he had the urge to lock himself in his bedroom and cuddle with his blankets and unicorn plushie. Or lay down in the middle of a road and await his death.

Either of the two.

Arthur sighed, shoulders tense and hunched as he highlighted another phrase. The Brit rubbed his temples and pushed up his glasses, feeling a headache coming as he tried to focus on the numbers and notes on his book. Finance sure was hard sometimes, maybe he should ask Alf—

Arthur groaned, taking off his glasses to put his hands over his flushing face, he felt his heart beat wildly as Alfred appeared in his mind, smiling warmly at him, explaining these bloody numbers and accounts as if it was the easiest thing in the world…

“No, no, no, no…” Arthur chanted quietly to himself, wanting desperately to hit his head against the table multiple times until he could forget Alfred and remember the numbers in the expensive books that Alfred had boug–

There he went again thinking about him.

The Brit shook his head as if that would solve anything and make Alfred magically disappear. It didn’t. It just made his headache worse. He wanted to go home.

“I just want peace and quiet…” He mumbled, he could feel the stares of some of the people in the library, probably wanting to ask if everything was all right. It was so embarrassing.

Arthur wanted to dig a hole and bury himself.

The Brit rubbed his eyes and sighed once more. In two days Alfred would return. Matthew wouldn’t let him get away from meeting with Alfred this time for sure.

Arthur straightened a bit and turned his phone on to see the time. It was 5:34 p.m., he had been here since two o’clock burying his face in books and papers and documents. The numbers were starting to swim in his vision, but he didn’t want to go home yet. Matthew would be there still. He would wait till seven, when he was sure that the Canadian had gone shopping for dinner.

The Brit put his glasses back on and tried once more to focus on his books. He would have a test soon and he needed to be prepared.

Needless to say that half an hour later he gave up and started doodling on his graphic diary.

But, even there he couldn’t escape. He ended up drawing Alfred subconsciously and when he finally realized what he had done, he had to fight the impulse to wreck apart his diary.

Arthur wanted to scribble over it with his biggest charcoal pencil and ruin it till one couldn’t guess what or who it was. He wanted to rip off the page and burn it. He wanted to do a million things but he wouldn’t. Firstly, because this was his dear diary, tearing off pages wouldn’t do it any good. Secondly because he kind of… didn’t want to ruin a good drawing.

His parents always had told him to follow arts but he would much rather have a successful career in some sort of business. He could always draw as a hobby of course. It’s not like he could stop drawing anyway.

Arthur took off his glasses and put them back in their case. He looked at the time once more: 6:43 p.m. Arthur started packing his things, organizing his papers and notes, and putting them inside his briefcase. Placing everything inside his backpack and making sure he didn’t forget anything, he started making his way back home.

On his way home, he wondered what he should make for dinner. Noddles sounded good since they didn’t require cooking. Besides, they were quick to make. Maybe he could get a bit more studying done later in his bedroom.

Arthur hummed quietly as he thought of a relaxing night in his bedroom involving studying, noddles, and tea later on, soft blankets, perhaps music as well. Yes, yes, that was a very good thought.

Alas, of course that couldn’t happen. No. Arthur Kirkland didn’t deserve a good, relaxing night.

His pace slowed down to a stop as just a few meters away from him, on the doorstep to his building sat a very sulky looking American with two big jugs of… something. Arthur couldn’t read the label from where he was.

Arthur opened his mouth to call out to the American but then he caught himself and stepped back. Eyes widening and throat forming a knot, Matthew’s talk came to his mind, hitting him like a ton of books. He froze for a moment, unsure of what to do.

Arthur felt panic surface and then Alfred looked up at him, probably sensing him staring. Those blue eyes widened and it looked like he was about to say something, but then—

Arthur ran.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, u can’t complain now, i updated quickly >:0 Lmao, jk, y’all never complain. Bless. Wish my teachers were like that. -qq
> 
> I feel like this chapter isn’t really what i had in mind, but meh. I wanted to post something… Since i didn’t post anything for Christmas… 
> 
> Oh, i forgot to add in the last chapter that i’m majoring in Arts so, i know nothing, really nothing, of Finance and economics or whatever. I researched about it, but mehhhh, sdflkansdkfjn
> 
> Not beta-ed.

Alfred wasn’t sure what had drawn him into the Brit when he first met him. Perhaps it had been his shyness? The way he fumbled awkwardly when they were first introduced… The way he played with his oversized sweaters and shirts when he was nervous or simply without anything to do with his hands. _It was adorable_.

It seemed, however, that Arthur wasn’t fond of touching. He had touched the guy once or twice on accident or out of habit and the Brit always tensed up and froze for a few seconds. Which made Alfred feel a bit bad and confused. He tried to avoid it, but he never apologized since Arthur never demanded he do it.

The Brit didn’t seem to notice what he did when he felt someone too close to him or touching him.

Arthur was always so uptight and polite… Such a goody two-shoes, it created an itch in Alfred. An itch that he wished to scratch, scratch, scratch—

But he couldn’t.

Arthur was such a pure being. He could just sense it…

_Wanted to taste it._

If the American had to choose a colour for Arthur, he would be white, meanwhile Alfred would be black. And Alfred would _love_ to taint that bright white. _Aimed to do it once he could._

It wasn’t like he had any ill intentions towards the Brit. Well, perhaps at the beginning he had been like some sort of villain preying upon his next victim. But Arthur was a sweet lamb that he wished to remain in contact with. He was his favourite entertainment.

Or so he thought.

The more he went out with him and talked with him, the more he wanted to spend his time with the Brit. Alfred sometimes wondered if he was too much, but Arthur never complained, he always complied to everything like a meek thing.

It made his itch grow. It was annoying. Sometimes he wanted to push him to his limit, see what would happen.

Alfred had seen the way the Brit behaved with other people… Always nervous and anxious as if he said anything wrong or stated his opinion the world would hate him and throw him out.

It was like watching a trapped bunny. A bunny in the middle of a pack of wolves. The poor guy never said anything. People would speak badly or say something stupid and the Brit would apologize and lie. Lie through his teeth as if it was natural for him to do so in order to stay on their good side.

Arthur was tempting. Would he comply to Alfred? Would he do everything and anything he were told? Alfred wanted to see him obey to him. But, just to him. Not anyone else.

So, he tried and tried. Never pushing much Arthur’s boundaries, just enough to start testing him.

And Alfred was more than pleased with Arthur. Such an adorable bunny in which he wanted to put his claws on. He had actually started, dare he say it, like him. _A lot._

Sometimes he was working in his office and found himself thinking of those cute fuzzy brows. The way Arthur flushed bright red and sputtered at a stupid innuendo or crude joke he said at times.

It was, in a way, something that made his day much better somehow.

Alfred was starting to think that he could really get Arthur. But then, _something_ happened. He didn’t know what he did— If he did something. The Brit just started ignoring him. Avoiding him like the plague.

Even Matthew had helped him, the sly bastard.

Needless to say, the time he spent without Arthur was miserable. Absolutely tedious. It was awful. His colleagues at work noticed his bitter mood, his sulking was in the way of his work, but he couldn’t get Arthur out of his mind.

One day he was sent home, his workmates telling him to take a day off and take care of whatever it was that was bothering him. He just spent most of the day sulking in his home, playing video-games and eating junk food as if he was teenager all over again.

Alfred hated it. He had no control over the situation. He wanted his control back. And, he also wanted Arthur back. As stupid and cheesy as it was – and Alfred hated that he had gotten himself tangled up in Arthur and been the one to have no control over his pinning on the other. It was supposed to be the other way around.

In the afternoon, he booked a flight to Canada so that he could have a change of airs, and speak with an associate.

He could feel the childish pout on his lips as it became evening, and he decided to go to Matthew’s house for a last stand. A last chance at seeing Arthur, catch a glimpse of his messy blond hair.

Alfred didn’t of course.

The Brit was nowhere in sight.

The American went to Canada with a heavy, cracked heart. Alfred felt terrible, like he had never felt before with any of his previous lovers, which hadn’t been many, but still.

Alfred’s stay in Canada didn’t last as long as he planned it to be. His mood had soured even more. He got snappy, angry and frustrated more often than usual, his bright smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was completely fake. He couldn’t focus on his work. He was starting to become sloppy.

He went back earlier.

Alfred left his luggage half-assedly on his hallway and darted for Matthew’s building with two big jugs of the maple syrup that the Canadian so much adored. He could practically live of the stuff.

When he rang the doorbell, no one answered, meaning there was no one home or Arthur was holed up in his room listening to music so loudly he couldn’t hear the bell.

Alfred simply sat on the steps, tired beyond belief he sighed. Running a hand through his hair, he thought that perhaps he should come back later.

But he was here already… Alfred pulled out his iPhone and tried calling Matthew.

No answer.

The American sighed again, taking off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes and attempted to will away his headache.

Well, his brother must not take too long, he would just have to wait a bit.

Alfred suddenly felt as if he was being watched. He really had no patience to deal with people right now. He looked up, ready to growl at the person staring down at him to fuck the fuck off. But then—

There he was.

And Alfred felt his heart stop for a moment, before starting to beat wildly inside his chest.

Arthur was still as cute as he remembered. The itch came back with force. Alfred felt his hands twitch, his muscles tensing as they just stood there staring at each other for a few seconds.

Then, Arthur bolted as if hell was on his heels. Before Alfred could even say anything.

The American cursed, adrenalin pumping through his veins, he started running after the Brit. Intent on catching him no matter what.

This time he wouldn’t escape.


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, Arthur could run.

At first glance one would have thought that Arthur was a frail creature of some sort, definitely not the exercising type. It seemed, however, that this bunny could run. _A lot_.

Alfred panted, sweat starting to bead his skin, he ignored the looks people gave him as he ran after the Brit in a suit of all things. Not the best outfit to run in, but no option.

If things continued this way, Alfred was really hoping that the Brit either got to a dead end or that he got tired before the American. It didn’t seem likely however as Arthur continued running in front of him, in a panic fuelled frenzy.

It was tiring having to dodge the people in the crowd, and Alfred was afraid he would lose sight of that messy blond hair. Thankfully, the Brit took a turn for an alley.

Alfred smirked, thinking that he would finally catch up to him as at the end of the alley there was a wired fence.

Colour him shocked when Arthur fucking jumped over it. _How the fuck—_

“No way…” The American wheezed, slowing down as he reached the fence, he watched as Arthur continued running along the alley and then turning at the end and disappearing from his sight.

Alfred kicked the fence in frustration, jaw clenching and teeth gritting, he growled.

“Fuck.”

The American glared at the fence with irritation, muscles tensing he turned around and walked out of the alley.

Alfred was a good athlete, but it’s not like he had been doing a lot of exercise lately, he was rusty. Maybe he should start a routine of exercising again. It could come in handy one day.

Like right now.

But unfortunately, he had let Arthur escape.

Alfred wasn’t mad. No, no— He was downright furious.

The American walked through the crowd, quietly seething, and feeling disgusted at the way the suit stuck to his skin like glue. He desperately needed a bath and a change of clothes.

And… After that, he was dead set on finding the Brit.

* * *

 

His rage had lowered during the bath, simmering into a feeling of frustration that he hated. Hated more than anything.

And then his iPhone rang, pulling him away from overthinking everything once more. However, he still had little to no patience for calls now, and if it was work, he would hang up right away.

It was Matthew.

“Hey, Alfred! You came back earlier—”

“Listen, Matt, I’m not in the mood to talk right now.” He interrupted curtly, sitting on the edge of his bed. At the sudden silence from the other side, Alfred grimaced, feeling a bit guilty at pushing away his brother, “I’ll call you back later, okay?” He said more softly.

“...All right…” The Canadian replied lowly, “I just wanted to say thank you for the maple syrup, it was a blessing that no one took it since it was outside.” He chuckled quietly, “I thought you would’ve waited for me.”

Alfred groaned, mentally berating himself for forgetting that minor detail. Blessing indeed.

“Yeah… Sorry about that, I had to… hum… go.” He explained lamely, not knowing what to say. It’s not like he could just confess that he had forgotten the maple syrup in favour of running after Arthur.

“And…” A hesitant pause, “Is… Arthur with you by any chance…?”

Alfred rose an eyebrow and sighed. _He wished._ “No…”

“It’s just that he hasn’t returned yet and is not picking up his phone. I’ll wait a bit longer. Call me later, okay? See ya!”

His brother hung up before he had any chance of saying that he had actually seen Arthur. Alfred thought of calling him again to tell him just that, but then shook his head and threw his phone behind him.

With a sigh, Alfred laid down on his big bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence in his flat was rather comforting, but also filled him with strange feeling of loneliness. He wasn’t a quiet, introverted person, so he always liked to have some noise as background, either it be music so that he could sing badly each song or some stupid TV show.

But at the moment there was nothing. Just silence.

He lived in a big building with luxurious apartments that included the godsend for sensible-to-sound people known as soundproof walls. Not really a bonus for him, although it was blessing when he had vocal partners, which hadn’t been the case since he started pursuing the shy Brit.

His hand had been his only company. It was no fun using toys when not having someone to join the play.

Alfred groaned and turned to his side, eyeing his phone he contemplated what to do.

However, he didn’t have to think for too long since Matthew was then calling once more. With a tired sigh, he answered the call.

“Arthur’s here now, but he has locked himself in his room— And I think he was crying when he came home—?” The Canadian quickly vented and Alfred sat up, brows creasing, “Did you do anythin—?!”

“Woah! Hold up!” Alfred butted in, “Why are you already blaming me!?”

“Because you’re pretty much one of the few people with which Arthur socializes.” Matthew explained from the other side as if it was obvious.

“Maaaatt!” He whined exasperated, “You really think I would make Arthur cry on purpose?! Besides I haven’t even talked with him today!” _Not yet anyway_ … Alfred sighed and made a resolve, “I’m coming over, don’t tell Arthur I’m coming.” He stated, rage rising once more.

“Wait— Wha—”

Hanging up, Alfred jumped off the bed, this time dressing something more comfortable and casual in case Arthur decided to _exercise_ again.

This time for sure though. He wouldn’t let the Brit escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly deleted half of this chapter because i had an idea but i didn't like it so i remade it and i think this way is better, but anyway--  
> Here we are, lmao, i just had to prolong Alfred's suffering, hahaha (and Arthur's i guess), is it in the next chapter that they finally have a good heart to heart conversation? We'll see, lmao


End file.
